Introduction & Itinerary

On September 6, 2003 I stepped onto a flight bound for Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Initially it was meant to be a "couple month vacation." It turned into a seven month tour of Mexico, Belize, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Panama. This letter is a recollection of my activities.

Mexico (90 days)
Puerto Vallarta (4), Manzanillo (2), Zihuatenejo (1), Acapulco (4), Puerto Escondido (7), Zipolyte (4), Oaxaca (6), Mexico City (10), Veracruz (2), Villahermosa (2), Palenque (2), Campeche (1), Isla Mujeres (10), Cancun (1), ... Puerto Escondido (6), Acapulco (3), Lazaro Cardenas (1), Uruapan (2), Guanajuato (4), Zacatecas (3), Mazatlan (3), Los Mochis (1), Urique (1), Areponapuchi (2), Creel (1), Batopilas (2), Ciudad Juarez (1), El Paso-Texas (1), Greyhound bus El Paso to Calgary-Alberta (3).

Belize (6 days)
Belize City (1), Dangriga (1), Caye Tobacco (4).

Guatemala (26 days)
Flores (6), Guatemala City (3), Antigua (2), Panajachel (1),
San Pedro (1), Panajachel (2), Guatemala City (1) ...
Guatemala City (4), Quetzaltenango (6).

Honduras (11 days)
Copan (1), Utila (7), Tegucigalpa (2) ... Tegucigalpa (1).

Nicaragua (25 days)
Managua (2), Granada (4), Moyogalpa (1), Altagracia (2),
San Juan del Sur (3) ... Leon (9), Chinandega (4).

Costa Rica (50 days)
Liberia (2), Samara (2), San Jose (32) ... Puerto Viejo (2),
San Jose (4), La Fortuna (4), Liberia (4).

Panama (9 days)
David (1), Panama City (5), David (1), Bocas del Toro (2).

Puerto Vallarta to Zipolyte

Only a couple hours in Puerto Vallarta I stood watching my first ever wild turtle on the beach, kicking up sand with its flippers, digging a hole to lay eggs. Soon after I spent two hours with a street clown doing ludicrous acts with five other Mexicans for an audience of two hundred people.

Other memories include buying sundaes and strolling the Malecon (shoreline walkway), stuffing myself full of spicy tacos at cheap street stalls, completing a Spanish phrase sheet to travel with (like I did in China), wandering cobblestone streets, admiring the chicas, and starting a book on Thomas Edison’s inspiring life story.

The city of Manzanillo was next, with a day trip to Colima to see its smoking Volcan de Fuego from a distance. Zihuatenejo was a pretty bay town.

My introduction to Acapulco came while walking down a street and hearing the song Smooth Criminal thundering from a public bus stylishly painted in Pink Panther design. From that moment I was sold. Ascending the city’s steep hillsides, palaces to slums, I was rewarded with beautiful bay views. Another memorable moment would come on a Saturday night from an open air club by the beach, in the middle of the city’s neon lights, with a great Mexican band blasting heavy metal and rock music under the stars till five am.

Fave Mex song to this point? “I ain’t no gringo, you beano.” Need a taxi? Only city in the world I have been to where all the taxis are Volkswagen Beetles. For Mexico’s 193rd birthday, though the streets were packed nothing happened at midnight, no countdown or such, the party just fizzled out into nothing, so I went home to do some sewing. Viva Mexico!

Puerto Escondido. A haven for surfers and backpackers: gigantic waves, gorgeous beach, cool cafes, great food, inexpensive accommodations, beautiful women, and lots of sunshine. For six days I did nothing but rest, sun, read, and eat.

One afternoon I tried boogie-boarding on the “small waves” in the bay and was nearly destroyed in a series of wipe-outs; three days later the aching subsided. Escondido, for me, remains one of the more enjoyable beach destinations of Mexico. In literature I said goodbye to Edison, hello Thomas Jefferson, hello Anton Szandor LaVey.

Zipolyte was a popular beach hangout. Neighboring village Mazunte was prettier and had a turtle farm; the type to catch my eye was Chelydra Serpentina, the serpent turtle (or snapping turtle). Never before have I seen a turtle like this one: large claws on its feet, a long spiked tail, and bulging neck. Of all turtles it strikes me as the most dinosaur-like.

Oaxaca to Mexico City

Leaving the Pacific coast I entered Oaxaca, a fashionable colonial city famed for its arts scene and handicrafts. Activities included wandering the zocalo (main square), hanging out in cafes, browsing galleries and museums (my guest book comment: “Exhibits I-III are by far the best; before Jesus came”).

One morning I bused to the hilltop ruins of Monte Alban, an ancient Zapotec capital dating back to 500 BC. Later I went to view the tree of El Tule, a massive type of cypress, supposedly the largest biomass in the world. More than two thousand years old it is fifty-eight meters around the base, forty-two meters high, weighing an estimated 636107 tons.

It was in Oaxaca I had two bouts of vivax malaria. I started bombing with chloroquine upon the second attack, have not had any trouble since, but will get tested when I return to Canada.

Mexico City. I loved it! All the reports of a dirty, polluted, poor, crime-plagued, overcrowded and ugly city were overdone. I found the city organized, efficient, nowhere near as crowded as a Chinese city, far cleaner and wealthier than the cities of India-Pakistan, and there was lots to do.

Day one I immediately jumped a bus to the Teotihuacan pyramids, with the famous Pyramide de Sol, third largest pyramid in the world, built around 100-150 AD. Six hours later, having climbed and pictured all things possible, including being bit by four fire ants (damn! they hurt), I was back in the big city grooving to Ricardo Arjona’s El Problema in a cd shop, my fave Spanish song to date.

Day two I walked though the University grounds with its colorful mural-library, toured Zona Rosa, home to the stock exchange and showcase Paseo de la Reforma avenue. Day three I studied the National Museum, home to some intriguing Olmec (1200-400 BC), Teotihuacan (100-750 AD), Maya (300-900 AD), and Aztec (1300-1521 AD) monuments (much to my delight Jesus was marginalized). Then an Art Museum dominated by the freaks Diego and Frida, two socialist-glorifying midgets.

Day four I admired the first-rate Museo Soumaya, one of the largest Auguste Rodin collections in the world, owned by Carlos Slim (Mex’s 12-billion dollar man). Rodin’s 1872 sculpture Suzan was immaculate, as were five stunning pieces by other sculptors. I could barely believe I was looking at stone. Wandering the streets around the museum, I came across a small graveyard that had some excellent spray-painted murals depicting the Day of the Dead.

This led to the activity of day six, Mexico City’s main graveyard the Panteones Espanol -- which is so big it has its own Metro stop. I was astonished to see the size of the tombs here, many the size of temples and extravagantly decorated, some of which were filled with toys, musical instruments, pictures, flowers, etc. Come late afternoon, I spent three hours on the forty-first floor of the Torre Latinoamericana tower with a 360 degree sweep of the city.

Day seven I visited the Bosque de Chapultepec and park. Nearby, I discovered my favorite skyscraper of Mexcity, the newly opened Torres Tower. Day eight I entered another art museum, finding the beautiful landscape paintings of Jose Maria Velasco (1840-1912), a Mex painter taught by Italian master Eugenio Landesio.

Veracruz to Isla Mujeres

"Ancient Mexican civilization, nearly three thousand years old, was shattered in the years of 1519-1521 by a tiny group of invaders (eleven ships, five hundred fifty men). These conquerors destroyed the Aztec empire, brought a new religion and by epidemic reduced the population from 25 million to 1 million within a century, the survivors becoming second class citizens and slaves. From this traumatic experience rose modern Mexico.

Three hundred years later with its power and influence waning -- reeling from the shock of the Napoleonic wars, rival European empires rising -- Spain began losing its American colonies as they successfully clamored to independence in the early 1800s."

To the city of Veracruz and the historical gem San Juan de Ulua fortress. It is here Spanish domination of Mexico started on June 24, 1518 and ended with surrender on November 18, 1825.

With this piece of history I could not miss the symbolic significance of the fort’s location: in the middle of an international shipping yard. It was riches, prosperity and trade the Spaniards came looking for -- that is exactly what they found and established. Little would they realize in 1518, with mercantilism transforming into capitalism, the trade at this very port would eventually be worth hundreds of billions of dollars, surpassing every individual’s greatest expectations.

Two days in Villahermosa where a tropical zoo is combined with an excellent outdoor museum of Olmec (1200-400 BC) sculpture, providing an insight into the first great culture of Mesoamerica. Some of the famous Olmec heads are located here, weighing up to twenty-four tons and more than two meters tall. One of the sculptures explicitly details a shark, the first time I have seen such a creature in an ancient monument.

At the end of the zoo, after the big jungle cats, there is a empty cage with only a mirror in it with a sign that reads “In this place you can see the biggest predator of the world.” The city museum also displayed the unique sculpture work of the Totonaca -- small head sculptures with bright, smiling, joyful faces -- immortalizing the positive emphasis this curious group of individuals placed on life.

To Palenque and the ancient city architecture of the Maya, inhabited from 100-900 AD. On the edge of the jungle Palenque peaked 600 to 700 AD, leaving behind a variety of palaces, courtyards, temples (highest being twenty-five meters), plazas, residences, tombs, steles, and reliefs. While the ruins are made up of some five hundred buildings over fifteen square kilometers only sections of it are open to the public, with excavation an ongoing project. With good weather it was a nice playground to run around in for an afternoon.

Campeche is a restored colonial city, pretty enough to be classified as a World Heritage Site. Skipping past Merida and the Mayan site of Chichen Itza (for Tikal in Guatamala), having spent long enough away from a beach I caught a bus and ferry straight to Isla Mujeres. Off the coast of Cancun and in the Caribbean Sea, it is here the second largest reef in the world begins.

Ten days of meeting an international party of travellers, feasting, sun soaking, snorkeling in turquoise blue waters, playing volleyball on white sand beaches, petting a nurse shark, learning killer pool, off-roading in a golf cart, dancing nowhere till the wee hours in club Coco Bongos. Rivalling Puerto Escondido for most happening beach scene in Mexico, I thoroughly enjoyed my time here.

Belize City to Caye Tobacco

Exit Mexico, enter Belize. Spent my first night in Caribbean-styled Belize city, where Bob Marley wails alongside Kenny Rogers and Shania Twain. How strange and amusing it was to hear the Creole locals speak their distinct type of English. Upon arrival at my hotel I met a boy of the hood, Theophilus, a.k.a. Sheik, a.k.a. Juice. He was chatting up a girl in a nearby store, turned to me and asked if I needed some 'juice', any help, anything. I replied I have all the juice I need, pointing to my newly purchased water bottle.

I also noticed the Chinese seemed to own every store and distribution outlet in the city. In each shop they and their goods sat settled behind counters protected by vast steel cages -- later learning drugs and guns are a big problem here.

Moving south to the town of Dangriga I hopped into a boat for Caye Tobacco, thirty minutes from the mainland. Here I spent four days on a five acre island snorkeling the reef just a stone's throw away. As only a handful of other travellers were present it was like having a private island!

Upon arrival I immediately jumped into the waters. In fifteen minutes I found three sharks, four to five feet in length, long and slender, who I nicknamed mini-whites. What shocked me was to find them in turtle-grass patches where the water was only two feet deep.

Later on I found huge corals of the brain-fan-branch type, a six foot spotted eagle stingray. Back on the island, one-hundred eleven baby turtles from one of seven nests had hatched, getting a police escort into deeper waters.

Day two spotted large tarpon and barracudas. Took a three hour swim into a coral labyrinth with high vertical walls. It was very eerie being by myself so far away from the island. Here I saw other types of colorful fish, including two cute porcupine fish.

Day three was a boat ride out and around surrounding islands, snorkeling the reef in an alternative location, spotting a mid-sized Hawksbill turtle. In the afternoon one could see dolphins leaping out of the water in the distance. Diving into the reef channel -- didn't see the dolphins but saw the biggest school of fish I have seen in my life. They poured over the coral hills, streams of them without end. More large stingrays and another shark.

Day four was a four hour swim. Found two fishermen catching those elusive lobsters we could not find ourselves. Leaving the island early on day five a pod of dolphins swam up to and around our boat for a few minutes. A perfect departure from Isla Paradise!

Tikal to Guatemala City

Into Guatemala. My entry here was negotiating a taxi with a kid for a couple of dimes. His car didn't make it three blocks before it broke down and I had to switch vehicles.

The small island of Flores was a base for stepping into the Mayan ruins of Tikal, tucked away in the rainforest. Excavated Mayan sites in Mexico are tiny by comparison as Tikal boasts six temples, ranging from thirty-two to sixty-four meters in height.

Temple IV was the prize here. At sixty-four meters it towers over the rainforest canopy, giving one a clear view of the other temples and the surrounding landscape for as far as the eye can see. Wildlife seen included acrobatic spider monkeys, howler monkeys that sound like supernatural wraiths, deer, a fox, parrots, toucans, cute coati, turkeys, hawks, and large colorful-patterned butterflies.

Guatemala city, residence of two million peeps, was a surprise to the upside. Like Mexcity nowhere near as bad as the rumors ascribed to it -- and it is home to one of the best zoos I have seen. Whereas many zoos in foreign countries can be colorless, drab and depressing, Guat's has beautifully designed green-grass-open-air-playpens for the larger animals.

Some of the more rare creatures include large orange-laced iguanas, south American monitor lizards, jaguars, miniature leopards that looked like large kitty cats, black swans. There were two pumas who were awesome to watch. One would sneak up while the other's back was turned, stalk then sprint like the wind to attack, chasing one another round the pen, swiping at one another, roaring-growling-hissing, and baring teeth. Never hurting one another, all in play, it was quite the show! A group of Guat kids found my outbreaks of delight more amusing than the cats themselves.

The interactive pen of the imported grizzly allows one to peek through glass portholes -- his face was just two feet from mine. And the Marmoset (cebuella pygmaea) -- I've never seen monkeys so small! Imported from the Amazon of Brazil their full grown bodies are 12-15 cm in height, tail of 17-23 cm, weighing 107-141 grams -- amazing creatures. On the whole, some of the healthiest and liveliest zoo animals I have ever seen. Two thumbs way up.

At the Guat art museum, expecting to find nothing of interest, I found a handful of abstract works to my liking. Lively street markets.

Did a day trip through the poor but picturesque outer suburbs descending into deep valleys. While on this walk one young boy maybe four years old, upon seeing my hair, exclaimed in an awed whisper "Hay soos!" (the pronunciation of Jesus in Spanish). Lastly, I watched the Matrix Revolutions three times, cheering on the battle for Zion.

Antigua to Lago de Atitlan

Onto Antigua, a finely restored city of colonial architecture, nicest one I have seen to date in Mex and Central America. From here I visited dramatic Volcan Pacaya (2552m), my third active volcano climb at the time. It was spectacular. The sulphuric fumes emitted from the crater made for an immense cloud of poison, so thick it was impossible to see beyond a few feet of the yellow-caked crater rim.

The thinnest mists had us gasping for oxygen. Had the wind quickly shifted direction even for sixty to ninety seconds, catching us off guard, I am sure many of us at the peak would have been killed (and tourists do die from unexpected eruptions / explosions). A remarkable experience. Risky, yes, but I find climbing active volcanos the most primal activity of all terrestrial adventures.

From Antigua to Panajachel and Guatamala's most famous landscape. Lago de Atitlan is a caldera (collapsed volcanic cone) filled with water to a depth of 320m, in an area of 128 sq km. From Panajachel one has a magnificent view of three volcanos across the lake -- Volcan Toliman (3158m), Atitlan (3537m) and San Pedro (3020m). I bused and trekked for two days around the lake, taking in gorgeous vistas, mountainside towns, freshwater swims, snapping some fifty-plus pictures along the way.

Though I did not ascend Volcan San Pedro I later heard two stories. One from an Irish traveller, another from a Canadian, who each witnessed separate gunfights between banditos and the police who escort tourists on the climb. The Irish witnessed one of the thieves being shot (a seventeen year old kid), while the Canadian yelled to his friends amidst the gunfire what a great value this was (for the money he paid), later naming the experience "The Battle for San Pedro."

Utila to Tegucigalpa

Goodbye Guatemala, hello Honduras. I went directly to the island of Utila in the Caribbean. Renown for being the cheapest place in the world to SCUBA dive, I passed on diving and did twenty-one hours of snorkeling over four days along the best coral reef I have seen to date. Day one was a three hour swim along the lighthouse reef.

Day two, though I never meant to when I began, I ended up swimming approximately eight kilometers over seven hours, from Oyster Bed lagoon to the cayes, seeing about half the southern coastline-reef of the island. Day three I swam around five cayes (small islands) for another seven hours. Day four was four hours in pouring rain and high waves -- quite the experience!

Identifying creatures from picture books in a dive shop, from these swims I saw: not 1, not 2, not 3, 4, 5, or 6, but 7 Hawksbill turtles!! Hawksbills average 2.5 to 3 feet in length, 95-165 lbs. Also saw a dozen or more large spotted eagle (average 4-6.5 ft, max 8 ft) & southern-black stingrays (average 3-4 ft, max 5.5 ft), twelve spiny lobsters around a single rock, several five foot barracudas, two translucent moon jellies, thousands of bioluminescent comb jellies, a foot-long segmented fireworm, several cushion seastars, six or so donkey dung sea cucumbers, and sea pearls.

Fish include lots of butterfly fish, colorful queen & french angelfish, flat needle fish, yellowtail damselfish, parrotfish, squirrelfish, peacock flounders, trumpetfish, a dozen or more ultra-cute porcupine fish, ocean & queen triggerfish, many large schools of lovely blue tangs, a couple hundred blue striped grunts swam about me for some time, surprising sand-burrowing razorfish, and kinds of groupers and snappers.

Coral types include fire coral, giant purple fans (5-6 feet diameter), reef top colonies of blades and plates, branch, pillars, boulders, giant brains (1.5 - 7 ft), tons of staghorn (1-8 ft branch diameter), smooth starlet corals, tubes and pipes. Colors were across the spectrum -- purples, reds, blues, greens, yellows, oranges -- but the very bright color pieces were rare.

Being alone for all four swims sometimes it was intimidating to think where I was, or eerie when I came to a reef edge not being able to see to the ocean floor. The caye I stayed on overnight between days two and three (thanks Todd!), there were massive black swarms of minnows by the docks. A local restauranteur, at age fifty-six, said he had not seen so many minnows since he was a little boy.

The first tortuga I saw on day three was the best as we startled each other when I came over a ridge, with a mere four to five feet separating us. Hopefully the picture turns out. The most full-on moment came about in fifteen feet of crystal clear water, with a coral jungle below me, a Hawksbill turtle to my right and a large spotted eagle stingray to my left. I was torn which way to look!

The only time I was truly afraid was on day four, in the rains and winds, when I rounded Rock Point and found myself face to face with the giant swells of the open ocean, losing sight of all buoys and boats. Man, did I paddle out of there in a hurry. Even then it was hard to get traction in the water due to the strength of the currents. Whew! One visual I will always remember during this swim: when the rains poured down I would release my air and sink to look up at the rolling waves, raindrops pelting the water's surface. It looked wild.

Lastly, this time on land, from a hangover the following day I also learned from my Utila stay never to tell an Irishman where the bar is.

Escaping the downpours of Utila I flew & bused it to the capital of Honduras, Tegucigalpa, home to a million people. It was a ho-hum city. The art museum had a few interesting pieces. Taking in the city view from an empty La Paz park, a meathead cop (and two army buddies) soon had me against a tree, patting me down. Bored idiots! I 'talked' and gestured to the one fellow who looked like he had some intelligence behind his eyes and was able to walk away without incident.

A Danish fellow had the audacity to leave our hotel at night and go wandering the marketplace, some guy pulled a knife, swung and luckily only grazed him. He lost some cash plus had a nice red slice across his side as a souvenir.

As a closing note, a rabid group of Honduran Christians were passionate about spray painting "Jesus (for) presidente" all over the country. Providing Jesus could get over his dislike of temporal affairs, they obviously do not grasp once he accepted power Jesus would lead them straight into a self-righteous suicide.

Managua to Volcan Masaya

With Honduras in my rear-view mirror I cruised into Nicaragua. At the border a customs guard asks you for nine US dollars and gives you a receipt for four, with thirty or forty bicycle-taxi maniacs yelling, fighting for your bags, and swinging at each other for the fifty cent business of peddling you down the road.

Circling smoking volcano San Cristobal (1745m) during the bus ride I went straight for the capital Managua. Day one I paid two dollars to enter the National Museum. Half of it was kids drawings -- and that was the good half. The other half was the worst collection of trash I have ever seen in a museum. I was choked.

The national zoo was just as bad: birds missing eyeballs, the lioness missing her paw, the parrots were squawk-insane, jaguars-pumas pacing incessantly, the boa constrictor was bashing his face against the wire trying to bite me, monkeys pathetically ragged. Guat-zoo it was not. With even my hotel ripping me off the saving grace to the whole city was finding two pleasant shopping malls to hide in until my departure.

To Granada on the shores of Lago Nicaragua, the only body of freshwater in the world to be inhabited by sharks. Up to three meters big! At the foot of dormant Volcan Mombacho (1344m), Granada was a nice place to hang out in for four days, good hostel, good food, pleasant countryside. Each evening hundreds of people celebrated an ongoing festival, the so-called Immaculate Conception of Mary, exploding fireworks day and night.

It was from here I saw my first Nicaraguan volcano up close, one of America’s most active, Volcan Masaya (632m). One follows a road carved through an old lava field to get to the Santiago crater, one of many craters of the Masaya volcano. It has a diameter of 500 meters with sheer walls falling 300 meters to the bottom where one can see the smoking and steaming sulphurous hole. With tiny cars parked beside its massive rim I expect it made for some good pictures.

Walking down from the crater I heard a loud rustling off the side of the road only two feet away from me. I brushed it off as an iguana. But after a car passed I thought to myself this must be a really big iguana because it was making so much noise. I stepped into the trees and my eyes grew big, spotting a thick snake -- some five to six feet in length -- slithering through the leaves.

Isla Ometepe to San Juan

The jewel of Nicaragua is on Ometepe island in Lake Nicaragua: live Volcan Concepcion (1610m) and extinct Volcan Madea (1394m), two islands joined at the hip to make one. Concepcion is said to be the most perfect, symmetrical volcanic cone in Latin America. This one climb alone justified all the earlier disappointments and hassles of this country.

I pounded the idea of rapido into my guide's head the night before. We started hiking at 5am. What should have been a five hour climb tromping through rainforest we did in three, no stops, allowing me ninety-five minutes at the peak.

It was incredible. First, the entire peak was cloud free until ten am, providing exceptional views. Second, the winds at peak were absolutely vicious. For the first five minutes I was intimidated to crawl to the crater rim and look down for fear of being blown in.

Ivan, my guide, was meekly motioning me over, his eyes squinting, shirt nearly over his head, crawling along the rocks. As I had no idea what to expect from this peak, not seeing pictures of it beforehand, when I did look I was delighted to see a compact smoking crater below me, perfectly rounded, its rim spiked with jagged peaks.

Inspired, I was soon confident enough to maintain my balance in the fierce winds. I started my way around the crater rim, snapping many pictures. Soaked in sweat from the climb up a freezing Ivan followed to help me take pictures. In some ninety-five minutes I covered about sixty percent of the crater rim, turning around only because of an impassable steepness on both sides.

The clouds began forming at 9:35am. From nowhere these clouds would form in an instant, quickly expand and shoot over the crater with amazing speed.

Agreeing to descend, down we started, the winds subsided, the adrenalin rush eased. Enjoying the views of a slow descent we saw bright green parrots, white-faced monkeys, urracas (blue-tailed, white throated magpie jays), and colorful butterflies. The whole experience was an easy 10/10.

From Ometepe to the beach town of San Juan del Sur for three days, where high cliffs shelter a pretty bay -- blue waters of the Pacific dotted by anchored vessels. Here I rested and bunked with a seemingly shy Japanese fellow who impressed me with his travels, from Alaska and the Yukon (canoeing two thousand-plus kilometers by himself) down the Pacific coastline all the way to Panama.

Volcan Rincon de la Vieja

To Liberia, Costa Rica and a daytrip to active Volcan Rincon de la Vieja (1895m) national park. Starting with a rainforest trek under the canopies of giant trees hundreds of years old, twisted and gnarled, past waterfalls and streams, through the growth one comes across dozens of hissing fumaroles -- scalding hot sulphuric-steam vents -- and bubbling pools of water.

Farther along is the Volcancito, a real gem of a sight to behold -- a twelve by fifteen foot pool of bubbling hot mud. A nearby warning sign stating the mud is of temperatures 75-106 degrees Celsius (192-248 degrees Fahrenheit) -- perfect for a refreshing swim. Up the pathway smaller mud pots go blooop-blooop, followed by six large pools of bubbling mud, approximately forty by fifty feet in area. Another treat was to observe the tree type Jabillo Hura Crepitans which had large sharp spikes blanketing its trunk and branches.

The volcano crater itself was an eight kilometer hike one way, quoted to take three and a half hours. I didn't have seven hours for the round trip so I did it in three, with ninety minutes at the peak in between ascent-descent. Upon arrival at the peak I was lost in clouds, visibility averaging some forty to fifty feet for the most part.

It was freaky to be wandering in the vicinity of a live volcano, treading narrow paths with steep slopes on both sides. Paths that disappeared into cloud banks leaving me no idea as to where I was. So I sat down to rest for a bit by a peak-marker (stake), eating a chocolate-glazed donut.

After twenty minutes in the cool mists and strong winds, almost miraculously the clouds cleared for some sixty seconds. I saw the edges of a crater in the distance and excitedly made for it, descending via a connecting pathway as the clouds closed in again.

Approaching a platform of rock, the noise of the wind cut to total silence, the mists suddenly cleared and to my shock I stood on vertical to undercut internal crater walls dropping several hundred feet. At the bottom was a lake of bright blue ‘water’. I later learned the lake is 252 meters in diameter, 38 degrees Celsius in temperature, and because of underlying layers of molten sulphur and escaping gases, with a PH of zero it is essentially a lake of acid!

The clouds swiftly moved in so I did not capture any pictures of the crater. But it was the intensity of the elements (wind-rain), having no idea what to expect while walking through the clouds, followed by the abrupt discovery of a gorgeous crater lake that has burned Volcan Rincon de la Vieja into fond memory.

As is tradition with other active volcanos climbed I collected a film case of soil as souvenir. Then running as quickly as possible I descended from the peak, back into the rainforest, to escape escalating sheets of rain and wind.

Samara to San Jose

From Liberia I went to the Nicoya peninsula, the ocean town and pretty beach of Samara. The next beach over, Playa Carillo, was even more picturesque. Images include black mantler howler monkeys barking at me, dozens of two to three foot iguanas scattering (one was tame enough to pet!), the first Praying Mantis I have seen, coming face to face with webs sporting three-inch spiders with spotted yellow bellies.

On a walk I came to a cliff by the ocean with a handful of large trees extending over the edge. Upon hearing several cracks that captured my curiosity I watched a large dead tree break from its trunk and go thundering down the cliffside, splintering and splashing into the ocean below.

To San Jose for a month where I set up camp around cheap internet access and lodging to type this letter. In between writing I took breaks for a variety of activities: the zoo, movies, clubs, good food, the jade and national museums, two live volcanos. On Christmas eve a handful of us joined locals in the streets for confetti wars, Costa Rica’s equivalent of a snowball fight. On Christmas day I took in the premier of The Lord of the Rings finale, later enjoying supper on the 17th floor of the Holiday Inn (filet mignon, please).

Based out of San Jose the first volcano I visited was Poas. At 2704 meters high its crater is 1500 meters in diameter, 300 meters deep. Getting there was no problem as a paved road leads to the top. Previous to my visit I had heard the crater was often covered by clouds. But for the four hours I was present it was clear most of the time, which had me eager to walk the rim to inspect it up close.

On the lookout point there are signs stating “do not descend into the crater, please” -- with park Rangers around to enforce this lame rule. So I applied the marriage slogan “don’t ask permission, it is easier to ask forgiveness” and descended into the crater under cover of the trees. Walking three-quarters around the rim there are many hissing fumaroles along the way, and in the middle of the crater is a bright blue lake of acid.

At one point I descended about three-quarters of the way down into the crater, passing over and through piles of steaming burnt black rocks, but I never did get to the lake shoreline in the limited time I had. Associating the smell of sulphur with the thrill of active volcanos I may have to go through detox upon returning to Canada.

The second volcano explored while based in San Jose was Irazu. Following a paved road to 3432 meters, this is the highest of Costa Rica’s active volcanos, with a sea of clouds in the valleys below as a gorgeous backdrop. The principal crater measures 1050 meters across, 300 meters deep, and the central lake of acid is bright green in color (not blue).

Crossing a fence to inspect the crater, sure enough a park Ranger eager to corral his sheep was on me in seconds telling me not to do so. So I took a walk though the dozens of seismic towers off to one side, whereupon I discovered a way to descend onto the crater rim unseen. By the time I popped over the crater rim to expose myself to view, I was too far out to pursue and ignored the barking of the rangers in the distance.

Unfortunately the rim of Irazu is not comparable to Poas, as this one has a sheer drop-off only 1/5 of the way around. I could have continued but the thought of slipping and falling three hundred meters into a boiling lake of acid -- or going splat on the outside walls -- didn’t appeal.

I retreated a little then descended into the crater, following a crevice down to the lake. The dry but plant-filled crevice turns into a stream, then a waterfall cascading into the lake below. Luckily the stream was freshwater and not acidic. I still have my foot after stepping in it.

David to Bocas del Toro

Goodbye Costa Rica. Crossing the border into Panama two customs guards ask you for sixteen US dollars and give you a receipt for five. Stayed a night in the town of David where an American girl stated I am the only Canadian she has met who does not have a maple-leaf sewn into my backpack.

Frankly I think sewing a Canadian flag into one’s backpack is the equivalent of asking to be beaten and robbed, perhaps with a bonus knifing. Besides, many Mexicans I met thought I was a local, while in Central America they think I am Argentinean or Brazilian. As many women think Latino men are hot, this is fine by me (just call me Mr. Iglesias, baby).

The next day I said hello to a place sacked and burned to the ground by pirate Henry Morgan in 1671: Panama City. Entrance into the city was unique, crossing the Bridge of the Americas -- joining North and South America -- spanning over the Pacific entrance of the Panama Canal.

Day one I walked from my hotel along Avenida Balboa towards Punta Paitilla, circling around to El Cangrejo, the business district. It was here I popped into a Pet Connection store to scope out the animals. Found two Marmoset (cebuella pygmaea) on sale for $2000 US each. They also had leopard-spotted geckos. The best was finding prairie dogs for sale at $150 US each! -- at this price there are millions of dollars running around in Alberta’s fields!

Day two I saw the Miraflores and Pedro Miguel ship locks of the Panama Canal. Opened in 1914, taking 56307 workers to build, at 80km long it joins the Pacific to the Atlantic Ocean, with nearly 14000 ships passing through yearly. The heaviest users of the canal are (in order) the US, Japan, China, Chile and South Korea.

Highest fee to cross the canal to date is $226,194.25 US, the lowest being 36 US cents by Richard Halliburton who swam through in 1928. While the locks were tiny in comparison to the Three Gorges ship locks of China's new dam, I finally was able to glimpse ‘one of the greatest engineering marvels of all time.’

In the afternoon I took to the Summit Botanical Gardens and Zoo. The Mono Titi (saguinus geoffroyi) look like miniature gargoyles, the keel-billed toucans are exquisite, the Amazonian parrots fun, but the creature to steal the show was the harpy eagle. Considered to be the most powerful bird of prey on earth, the males weigh four to six kg, the females up to eight kg, their wingspans can be up to seven feet, their feet can approach the size of a man’s hand, with individual talons equalling in size that of a grizzly bear claw. Critically endangered in the wild, they are absolutely incredible and gorgeous birds to look upon.

Day three I stood under the statue of Vasco Nunez de Balboa, the first European to see the Pacific Ocean on September 13, 1513. Then walked through Casco Antiguo, the old town with its pedestrian shopping avenue. Panama has several neighborhoods where others should not enter, daytime or night -- or else. It was here I just about made the mistake of entering the bordering district of Chorrillo. A couple of locals sternly warned me not to go that way.

Earlier in San Jose a Chilean told me of his experience in Panama City and a neighborhood like Chorillo. It was about 11am, the streets were filled with people, he was unaware of the dangers of the area, casually playing tourist, taking pictures, etc. He was stepping onto a bus, was inside the doorway when hands from behind pulled him down and onto the pavement. A gun was inserted into his mouth and he was promptly stripped of all possessions. Those of us listening asked him, “What did you do then?” He replied, “What do you think I did?! I sat on the curb and started crying.”

Walking through the slum streets of ‘safe’ Casco Antiguo, I understood his words perfectly. Though I have been in far poorer neighborhoods in other countries, this was the first Negro slum I strolled through in a large city -- it was very intimidating. Quickly taking my exit I decided to go visit the Art Museum instead.

Day four was spent on the Causeway, a picturesque and wealthy area next to the waters of the Panama Canal entrance. The architecture of the city was not as captivating as I had imagined it to be, many of the tall structures of its skyline being apartment buildings. As a result, after five days, I was ready to move on.

To the Bocas del Toro archipelago, a cluster of 9 islands, 51 named cayes and another 200 unnamed islets. Columbus and crew visited here on October 5, 1502. On the second day I trekked Bastimentos island for six hours along the beautiful beaches of the north shore to the Guaymi Indian village of Salt Creek.

The popular tiny poison dart frogs, bright red with black spots, are located on this island. On other islands these same frogs can be solid blue, brown, orange, green, black, green and yellow with brown spots, orange with black spots -- the list goes on. By chance I bumped into a medical team visiting the village (once every forty days), chatted with a doc, and caught a scenic hour long boat ride back to Bocas del Toro town.

Volcan Arenal

Panama was the southern-most destination of this trip. From here I turned around to go north, re-visiting Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Guatemala, Mexico. This allowed me to see additional pieces of each.

To the popular beach scene of Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica, for two days, lounging in sheltered pools of the Caribbean, watching the surfers, play fighting with blue-clawed crabs, feeding groups of tropical fish.

To La Fortuna, home to conical Volcan Arenal at 1633 meters, Costa Rica’s most popular active volcano in a continuous state of lava flow since 1968. During the first full day the clouds cleared by 11am. Off I sped to go trekking. From La Fortuna, cutting through farmers’ fields and two hours of rainforest later, I was peaked on the crater rim of extinct Cerro Chato, across from Arenal, where I heard the latter produce a small explosion.

Visibility was minimal as the jungle was thick, so I began descending into the valley separating Chato and Arenal. Two hours later, through miserable creepers and steep hillsides, I was looking up at Arenal full-on, unobstructed, no clouds, along its southeast flank. Following an old lava corridor up its side I scaled 80% of Volcan Arenal’s height but could no longer continue due to the steepness of the corridor’s walls.

Descending by full moon, back at the base of the lava field, I selected an area out of the wind, built it up with some rocks, roofed it with palm tree leaves, making shelter for the night as the clouds engulfed me and the crickets played. Come seven am the next morning, with clear skies and howler monkeys barking, I continued west through two and a half hours of hardcore, gruelling creeper jungle until I came to another old lava flow cutting through the trees.

Following it led to a divine stream where I stripped down and bathed for an hour. Redressed, I pursued the stream and stumbled on a set of footprints. The prints led to a trail. On the trail only 20 minutes I was soon sitting in the Arenal Observatory Lodge, eating a chicken sandwich, French fries, drinking water, enjoying the view.

The experience did not end here, unfortunately. After a nine km road walk and a brief lift, when I stepped out of my ride by the highway a stationed policeman was instantly upon me asking for name and passport. Groaning over his persistence, I wanted to hitch a ride back to La Fortuna, but he would not let me leave as he made phone calls.

The night previous to the hike I had casually talked with a man for twenty minutes in the lobby of my hotel. Within minutes this man pulled up in a taxi and began to explain. Concerned when he did not see me return from my trek after a single night he took it upon himself to enter my hotel room, go through my belongings, call the police, the Canadian embassy, my mother, and started organizing a search party to begin looking for me. Though I was not impressed I kept my cool and unwound all things he had set in motion.

Volcan Momotombo

To Liberia and Volcan Rincon de la Vieja, part two. Of all volcano treks Rincon de la Vieja is the only one I walked away from without having good weather, unable to capture the crater on film. I returned for a second climb. After three hours of sitting in clouds, blasted by strong winds, I gave up and for the second time walked away. Alas, having tried twice I was forced to concede: this is the one that gets away.

As my consolation prize it was in San Jose I learned Nicaragua has fifty-eight volcanic formations. Of these fifty-eight, six are classified as active. With volcanos Concepcion and Masaya previously visited I went directly to the city of Leon as a base to do three treks.

The first was to Volcan Momotombo at 1280 meters. Getting up at four am, on a bus by five am, on the shores of Lake Nicaragua by seven, by noon I had circled around the volcano’s mid-section to be in a position to ascend to the crater. Arriving at the crater by one pm I was surprised at having to walk through the crater to get to the rim (usually it is the other way around).

Cloud free, I had excellent views of Lake Nicaragua, the volcano chain that extends seventy kilometers to the Northwest, as well as the surrounding landscape and lava fields. At the peak of the crater rim, under the dry surface crust the red clay was moist, hot and slippery. So hot I was unable to kneel or sit down on the surface. Through the steam and sulphuric gases my only companions were millions of beetles (alive and charred), grasshoppers, flies and wasps.

Two and a half hours later, with lunch dined and pictures taken, I descended from the crater to enter the lava fields as the sun went down. Using my camera as a flashlight I found a large piece of flat lava, built it up with rocks to keep the wind off me, and spent the night under the stars. There was a cricket festival to my right, a gently smoking Momotombo to my left, around me the jagged outlines of an eerie lava field lit by moonlight.

Come six am I resumed walking until I made Puerto Momotombo by ten thirty, catching a bus and returning to Leon. Thirty-two hours in total, I saw two owls, two coyotes, six green parrots, and my first ever wild jaguar -- the latter being a type two to three times the size of a house cat.

Volcan Telica

Two days rest, then to Volcan Telica: 1061 meters in height, with the crater 700 meters in diameter and 120 meters deep. Four hours to hike in, two of which I pushed my way through dense plant growth, the approach to the crater is a field of rocks and crumbling lava bombs. The next thing to notice is the roar coming from the crater. Inching up to the vertical walls one discovers the source of the noise -- a rock-smothered hole at the bottom that is as loud as a jet engine.

Witnessing two rockslides onto and around the crater hole, no doubt this is the process by which rocks are thrown about the surrounding landscape. I saw four small lava pools by this same hole. They were especially evident when the sun clouded over, glowing bright red. Circling round I discovered the slope of the volcano’s backside was gradual enough to be climbed to the top of the rim. Up I went to stand high over the crater, admiring a great view of smoking Volcan San Cristobal to the North.

Volcan Cerro Negro

Trek three was to Central America’s youngest volcano, Volcan Cerro Negro. Exploding onto the scene in 1850, by 1968 it was 230 meters tall. After twenty three eruptions since birth it is now 675 meters in height -- all of it black lava rocks and black sand. Though a baby to its peers the design of the volcano is peculiar. Seventy-five percent of the crater is ringed by and connected to a high perimeter wall, it being raised over time by recurring lava eruptions.

I spent an hour and a half in strong winds walking the perimeter wall to peak, looking into the crater and the lava fields of the valley below. North of the perimeter wall are black sand dunes for two kilometers. It was on this face of the volcano a Frenchman rode a bicycle down, breaking the Guinness Book of World Records for fastest speed on a bike, clocked at 130.43 km/h.

Volcan San Cristobal

Five of six climbed, only one active volcano remained: Volcan San Cristobal, Nicaragua’s highest, at 1745 meters. With the town of Chinandega as my base, daypack loaded with water and food, by eight am I was at Las Rojas farm, the starting point for an ascent. With the morning mists and gases clearing from the summit, as I climbed higher the terrain resembled a scene of Armageddon: hundreds of dead trees stripped of vegetation by the poisonous gases.

By ten am the volcano’s slope was becoming so steep I was in growing disbelief a climb could be continued. With no distinct trail, the entire face of the volcano was composed of crumbling rock crevices and pebbly sand. The most critical moment, at some ninety-eight percent to the peak by one pm, I came to a spot where I had to cross over to get to another crevice, some forty feet to my right.

Contemplating options, I located two dagger-like rocks and began chiselling footholds into the shale and sand, creating a trail between large rocks, toward the crevice I needed to get to. Successfully reaching and following the crevice up, I was shocked to emerge at the extreme peak -- 1745 meters -- and find myself isolated from the rest of the volcano by rim walls too steep to descend on either side.

For the hour I rested I watched the release of large gas clouds from the crater, swatting off swarms of wasps and other insects. Descent, for the first two hours, was just as tricky as ascent. What made it easier, however, were the markers I had left behind on the way up: white plastic garbage bags taped to trees. Able to piece together my route in reverse I was back in Las Rojas by five pm, grateful to follow the flat, dusty fourteen km road to Chinandega.

Volcan Santa Maria

Exiting Nicaragua I made my way to Quetzaltenango (Xela) in Guatemala to climb Volcan Santa Maria (3772m) and view the active Santiaguito (2488m) crater. Taking a minibus to the village of Llano del Pinal I began trekking at 6:30am. Instead of hiking the tourist trail I came to a Y-intersection, by accident chose the right path, veering around Santa Maria instead of up it.

By 7:55am, with the Santiaguito crater in sight, all calm, I decided to get a closer look at 'guito and began descending Santa Maria's side. A few minutes into descent I noticed what sounded like a jet engine firing up with the high-pitch steadily increasing.

Moments later (8:09), as I stared in awe, 'guito suddenly let rip an ash cloud that mushroomed a kilometer into the air. This awe lasted two minutes when I realized in horror the ash cloud was drifting in my direction. The wind currents, to great relief, pushed it harmlessly over my head.

Changing course to resume the climb to Santa Maria's peak, 'guito continued to blow ash clouds into the air every half hour (8:57, 9:25). By 9:50 I was at the top of the sheer cliffs of Santa Maria's 1902 eruption, with an unobstructed view of 'guito below me.

Before it clouded over at 11am 'guito released another three ash clouds, the last accompanied by a roaring explosion to trigger landslides down its slopes. I climbed the last bit to Santa Maria's peak, viewing a chain of volcanos extending as far as Lake Atitlan and Antigua, with Volcan Fuego (3763 m) also blowing ash clouds in the distance.

As I ate lunch on the peak, listening to 'guito erupt below the cloud cover, I talked with a fellow from Momostenango. He, along with a couple dozen Mayans, had come to the Volcano to pray and make offerings in the hope that Santa Maria and Santiaguito do not explode anytime soon.

Come 1pm I followed the Mayans down the main trail of Santa Maria, reaching Llano del Pinal by 3pm. All told, an incredible experience! Thanks to Jason Marriott -- for it was his pictures that sold me on hiking Santa Maria to view Santiaguito.

Puerto Escondido to Guanajuato

To Mexico and Puerto Escondido for five days of sun, followed by Acapulco for three days, breaking into new ground with a trip to Uruapan and Volcan Paricutin.

"On February 20, 1943 farmer Dominic Pulido felt the ground tremble beneath his feet and watched in fright as Paricutin exploded out of a Mexican cornfield -- giving the modern world its first opportunity to witness the birth of a volcano. By the time the eruption ended in a blaze of violent activity in 1952, Paricutin had formed a cinder cone 424 meters tall. Lava flows covered twenty-five square kilometers, burying two villages. The only visible trace of the villages is the tower of the church of San Juan, still standing above a river of frozen lava."

To Guanajuato, silver city of the Spanish Empire, my fave Mexican city-playground to date. For 250 years Guanajuato produced twenty percent of the world's silver, with Spain's ruler known as the Silver King as far away as China and Indonesia. The wealth extracted here (and other mines) not only accelerated European economies (banking prospered, commerce expanded, and prices soared), but went into building an exquisite city.

It is crammed onto the the steep slopes of a ravine, with narrow streets that twist around the hillsides and dive underground into a series of tunnels. Candy-colored colonial architecture, mansions, churches, theaters and plazas are all criss-crossed by hundreds of callejones (alleyways), making it a delight to get lost while wandering.

I visited both the Valenciana and El Boca mines, as well as one of the oddities of the city: a collection of 107 'momias' (mummies) in 'screaming' poses. Among them, the smallest mummy in the world -- some seven to eight inches tall.

Zacatecas to the Copper Canyon

To Zacatecas, a silver city that equaled Guanajuato in output in the early Eighteenth Century. Zaca is not as charming as Guana in my eyes, but the El Eden mine is a highlight, walking through the caverns of level four (of seven).

The peak of my Zaca stay was discovering by chance Ricardo Arjona was playing in concert the next day. A single seat was available on the sixth row floor. Wringing my hands over the price I decided to do it and bought a 700 peso ticket ($90 CAD). My first concert in over ten years -- it was great! It is the only concert I have attended where a couple girls asked me for my autograph and photo.

From Zacatecas I sped past the semi-desert cacti fields of Durango and the best highway views I have seen in Mex to date -- over the Devil's Backbone -- into Mazatlan and Los Mochis to enter the Copper Canyon:

"A maze of 200 gorges combine to form a series of six massive, interconnected canyons covering 64,000 square kilometers (25,000 sq. miles). The canyon system is four times larger than the Grand Canyon in the United States. Four of its six canyons are deeper than the Grand -- some by over 1000 feet. The Chihuahua al Pacifico Railroad carries riders from sea level to over 2,400 meters (8,000 feet) when traveling west from the agricultural city of Los Mochis, through coastal plains, up and over the Sierra Madre mountain range before descending to the city of Chihuahua 655 kms (393 miles) away. Along with 37 bridges and 86 tunnels, there's even a 360 degree loop over itself at Kilometer 592."

On day one I made the train from Los Mochis (sea level) to Bahuichivo (1600m), then descended into the Urique canyon via bus to the town of Urique (550m), getting my first glimpse of the spectacular canyon views. Day two I set up camp in Areponapuchi, the only town built beside the canyon rim. Day three I woke at 5am and followed the canyon rim south for six hours, witnessing mind-blowing scenery of jagged canyon peaks and plateaus.

One section of the trail was a mere two feet wide, sheer cliff above me, an 800+ meter drop below me -- the slightest slip, trip or stumble would have meant 'game over'. To my amazement I passed two inhabited caves carved into the rock here!

The Urique river twisted through the canyon some 1500+ meters below me. It was one of the most memorable hikes I have done. Day four I spent in Creel. Day five to Batopilas by bus, falling from an altitude of 2338m to 495m through multiple canyons. Day six I woke at 5am to hike up onto a canyon wall, an eleven hour round-trip.

Saying goodbye to the Copper Canyon and Mexico, the marathon bus trip back to Canada began. It was fourteen hours to the US border, then another sixty-five hours from El Paso to Calgary, Alberta through the states of Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana.

Summary Remarks & Volcano Chart

When starting out I deliberately set my expectations low for all countries. I have been pleased by the variety of activities to keep busy. In retrospect, for the amount I travelled each, Belize, Honduras, Costa Rica came ahead of expectations. Mexico and Guatamala did even better. To my surprise, especially after initial experience, Nicaragua had the greatest upside in exceeding expectations. Panama, because I expected more from it than other countries, was the only one that came in slightly below expectations.

In line with the accumulated ideas of forty-two months of previous travel, the cultures of some of these countries took a backseat to the wildlife and geography. Without a second thought, the geography -- in the form of active volcanos -- was the sweetest part. They gave me the opportunity to see and experience very unique landscapes as well as push myself to physical maximums, making these 'peak' moments all the more memorable.

Of the thirteen active volcano treks this trip two were with guides, another three were road-to-peak accessible, with the remaining eight navigated and climbed by myself.

The most memorable was my overnight lava field sleep by Volcan Momotombo, followed by the overnight jungle trek around Volcan Arenal.

Active Volcanos Trekked (Sorted By Date)
Name	Country	Date	Type	Height	Crater Width	Crater Depth
Merapi	Indonesia	June 2000	Stratovolcano	2911 m	n/a	n/a
Bromo	Indonesia	July 2000	Cinder Cone of Tennger Caldera	2329 m	700 m	n/a
Pacaya	Guatemala	Nov 2003	Complex Volcano	2552 m	n/a	n/a
Masaya	Nicaragua	Dec 2003	Caldera	632 m	500 m	300 m
Concepcion	Nicaragua	Dec 2003	Stratovolcano	1610 m	n/a	250 m
Rincon de la Vieja	Costa Rica	Dec 2003 Feb 2004	Complex Volcano	1895 m	n/a	n/a
Poas	Costa Rica	Jan 2004	Stratovolcano	2704 m	1500 m	300 m
Irazu	Costa Rica	Jan 2004	Stratovolcano	3432 m	1050 m	300 m
Arenal	Costa Rica	Feb 2004	Stratovolcano	1633 m	n/a	n/a
Momotombo	Nicaragua	Feb 2004	Stratovolcano	1280 m	n/a	n/a
Telica	Nicaragua	Feb 2004	Stratovolcano	1061 m	700 m	120 m
Cerro Negro	Nicaragua	Feb 2004	Cinder Cone	675 m	n/a	n/a
San Cristobal	Nicaragua	Feb 2004	Stratovolcano	1745 m	600 m	n/a
Santa Maria (& Santiaguito)	Guatemala	Mar 2004	Stratovolcano	3772 m	n/a	n/a
Paricutin	Mexico	Mar 2004	Cinder Cone	3170 m	n/a	n/a

For volcano information and up-to-date activity reports, the Smithsonian Institute is the best website I have found thus far. For an interesting risk zone analysis around active volcanos, see Volcano Live.

Most memorable quote read while doing volcano research: "Civilizations exist by geologic consent ... subject to change without notice" by Will Durand, Historian.